Castiel's Literary Works
by SierraKathleen
Summary: Castiel writes a short poem describing the extent of his feelings for Dean. He never actually intended for Dean to read it though...
1. Castiel's Literary Works

**Disclaimer: **_Supernatural_ is property of Eric Kripke and the CW – I seek no profits from anything written here. This is purely fan-made material .

**Author's Note:** A short poem written in Castiel's P.O.V. of he and Dean's relationship. Please enjoy!!

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**- Castiel's Literary Works -**

_We've been through much together, you and I,_

_Yet is seems as though the distance between us is still incredibly far._

_This path is certainly not the easiest, nor most pleasant,_

_Still – why do you confuse me so?_

_You lift me up, offer me praise,_

_Only to break me down and revolt against me._

_We move ahead though, and I forgive,_

_But never truly forget._

_I have been a great help to you on more than one account._

_Whether it's freeing you from a "situation" as you call it,_

_Or simply being there when no one else could, would, or even wanted to._

_I have remained faithful to you alone._

_It is undeniable at times,_

_The pulse we share in unison._

_Or how our eyes connect, enveloping one another,_

_As you offer me a glimpse into your shattered soul._

_I cannot say that I'd rather see you stand happily,_

_Even if it's not beside me._

_For I'd be telling a lie if I did so,_

_And I could never hurt you in any such manner._

"I love you," Castiel murmured solemnly, touching the last drop of ink to the paper.

"You say something, Cas?" Dean questioned, looking up from his meal he was soon to devour.

Castiel quickly returned the pen to its cap, feeling blood rush to his cheeks as he did so. "No, nothing," he stammered after a moment.

"Hey," Dean said through a mouthful of burger, "I didn't know you could write."

As he folded his literary works into a small square, Castiel could feel a smug grin coming over his lips. "Believe me, you will," he replied at last.

And with the sound of ruffling feathers, the angel's presence was no more. Dean sat dumbfounded for a moment before retrieving the slip of paper into his hands. His fingers gently caressed each fold, gradually revealing the stature of feeling held within.

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Short – yes, I know. But what can I say? I thought a cliffhanger would be lovely ; )

Please **review** – it's very much appreciated!!


	2. Dean's Rhetorical Works

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and large television corporations such as the CW. Any and all of the following is completely fictional and fan-made.

**Author's Note: **Hello all, this is a short gift from me to you. It's been some time, but I think I have to agree with you… _Castiel's Literary Works_ certainly was no way to leave you hanging!

Now, I didn't want Dean to respond to Castiel's heartfelt gesture through means of poetry, because we're not in grade school here right? Not only that, but I thought that would be a little… out of character for our Dean-o here. That being said, we follow up with our sequel: _Dean's Rhetorical Works_. Please enjoy!

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**- Dean's Rhetorical Works -**

Dean Winchester stood on the rooftop of a motel, his hands buried deep in his pockets. A chilled wind scattered over the nightlife of the city below, causing the flaps of his leather jacket to brush gently across his lower jaw. Turning away from the edge, Dean lifted a near-empty beer bottle to his lips, taking yet another swig of the alcoholic beverage. He let out a long drawn sigh, returning his hands to the warmth of his pockets. Suddenly, he felt the point of the slip of paper crumple against the touch of his fingers in the confined space. He pulled the tiny folded square out once more, examining the fine handwriting of his angel. It truly was a beautiful apparition of the feelings Castiel held deep inside himself – still, the reality of the situation honestly made Dean feel like crap.

Cas was right, there was no mistaking it – Dean had been a total douche bag to him, even after all the angel had done for him. And so he was determined to set things right between them, allowing the pieces to fall wherever they would. Reading over the lines again and again, another gust of wind blew across the landscape pulling the heartfelt note from Dean's fingers. He watched solemnly as it twirled about in the air, rapidly crashing to the streets below. There was really no point in attempting to chase paper caught in a breeze, and so Dean simply hoped that someone, somewhere, would find the note and it would bring comfort to them.

He sighed in exasperation taking a final sip from his beer – this was his third out of a six pack. _Three down, three to go, _Dean smiled contently to himself at the thought. Suddenly there came a disturbance just behind him. "Hello, Dean," Castiel's deep voice echoed.

Dean swallowed hard, feeling his stomach tie itself in knots at the simple sound of the angel's voice. This was it, now or never. No looking back and certainly no regrets. "Hey Cas," he tried to sound as casual as possible, turning to face Castiel, "what brings you by?"

Castiel's brow furrowed in obvious confusion. "You called for me – do you not remember?" He asked, prior to tilting his head to the side, which of course made Dean feel like he was all but going to explode with giddiness.

"Ah, right," he chuckled, taking a few steps closer to Castiel, "a couple'a beers will do that to you." He whistled while making a "crazy face" for emphasis.

A faint smile flickered across Castiel's lips as he folded his hands together behind his back. Ever slowly he began to walk in leisurely circles around the hunter. "So my note," he began, his voice still calm and cool.

Dean finished the thought for Castiel, before he even had the chance to say it. "I read it."

"So I assumed," Castiel retorted, "and your opinion?"

Dean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly at the angel's question. "Well, it was, yeah. I liked it, I really did."

"That makes me very happy to hear you say that, Dean," Castiel said simply, a very large smile beaming across his face. Of course, he was turned away from Dean, not allowing him to see the exact extent of his pleasure.

There was a heavy silence that weighed upon both of them for a few moments – it was nearly unbearable for Dean though, and so he went ahead to speak once more. "Look Cas," he cleared his throat, taking steps to further approach the angel, "I'm no Shakespeare here, so I'm just gonna go ahead and come out with it – you're a guy and I'm a guy, and it's just a little weird you know?"

Castiel could feel a wave of dismay wash over him at Dean's words. Tightening his jaw, he spoke through clenched teeth, "I see."

Still, Dean continued onward. "But I'm not gonna say that I don't feel _something _for you. Now what? I have no idea! But Cas," lightly he grabbed a hold of the angel by the shoulder, turning him so that they were both facing each other, "I don't wanna hide it anymore. I, I think I want you to just be able to read me. Read me like an open book, or like your note."

Castiel's gaze pierced deep into Dean's, his luscious cerulean eyes glowing with pure radiance. "Dean, I would love that," Castiel responded breathlessly, "but I cannot lie to you – I don't know where this road will lead." Almost shamefully, Castiel turned his face to the ground at his own words.

As if were an instinct, Dean lifted a hand to cup the angel's stubble-covered cheek. With a motion so soft and tender, he returned Castiel's face to its upward position so that their eyes were connected once more. "Then let's walk it together," he smiled, no longer able to contain the joy that coursed through his veins.

Castiel didn't even really know what he was doing, but somehow he found himself leaning in to kiss the hunter he'd longed for, for what felt like an eternity. As their lips locked in a warm and passionate embrace, Castiel desired nothing more than to close his eyes and simply allow himself to be enveloped in this moment. Still, at the same time, he feared that if he permitted his eyelashes to flutter shut, that all of this would vanish. That somehow it would all just be a dream – a divine, yet horrifying dream.

Pulling away from Dean abruptly, Castiel instantly felt an ache within him longing to be reconnected with him. Dean immediately dove in towards the angel's neck, caressing it smoothly with his lips as he moved along. Castiel swallowed hard, letting out a deep gasp. "Oh Dean, could this be real?" he pondered aloud through heavy sighs.

Dean tenderly kissed along the angel's jaw line, leading upwards once more to Castiel's lips. He rewarded them one slobbery peck, before proceeding to answer Castiel's question. "If this isn't," he gulped feverishly, "then tell me what is."

Castiel smiled bright once again at Dean's words. Desperately, he clutched his arms around the hunter's back, locking their lips together once more. As their tongues glided past each other, slick and coated with saliva, Castiel felt a deep purr building within his throat. Meanwhile, Dean's hands roamed all about the angel's body – he longed to feel every dip and curve that had been hidden from him for far too long.

And so the two lovers stood atop the roof, beginning what would hopefully be the first of many heated make out sessions. Even now, as both men's hands roamed where they pleased, each knew that deep down this was all going to lead to so much more. And it could not be denied that they equally desired to experience this foreseen future that was still so uncertain to them.

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Sam Winchester's feet tapped rhythmically against the concrete sidewalk as he strutted down the streets of the city. In one arm he bore a large paper sack, stuffed with all sorts of goodies Dean had ordered him to get.

"Get at least two cans of baked apples, one cherry – oh and one peach! And don't forget dough! Wait, do they even sell dough in a box?" Dean had barked at him inside the motel room. Sam smiled to himself just at the thought of Dean trying to bake his own pie. _Stupid bitch. Jerk. Bitch!_

At last, he came to the corner nearing their motel room. On the opposing side of the street, a glowing orange handprint symbolized Sammy to stay put until traffic was clear. Promptly it changed to the pedestrian icon, in which Sam was just about to step off the curb. Suddenly something caught his eye laying in the gutter – it was a small piece of paper. Ordinarily, he would've thought nothing of it and went on his merry way, but from what he could see the handwriting contained was very neat. Carefully, he pulled it from a pile of leaves and trash neatly dusting it off.

Gradually turning back around, Sam found a nearby bench in which could settle the groceries upon while taking a look at his newfound discovery. Rapidly, his eyes swept over each swift swoop and curve of the fancy text, soaking in its meaning with each line. _Most likely some sulky high school love poem,_ he chuckled to himself. Although, his ever prominent smile quickly turned to twisted lips as he read over the signature. _Castiel_.

Sammy's thoughts ran wild, now realizing that this must've been addressed to Dean originally. Of course! After all, Dean had been acting strange ever since he'd arrived back from that diner he had visited for lunch. Still, Sam had thought it was just Dean being paranoid. Leaning back on the bench, Sam rubbed his chin in thought. _No wonder he wanted me to go out,_ he theorized.

Smiling broadly the sasquatch arose, shaking his head as he now headed in the opposite direction of the motel. If it was _time _Dean had wanted, why not give him a little extra of it. _After all,_ Sam mused to himself, _he's probably going to want all the time he can get!_

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Well, there it is for you! I hope that this was pleasing enough to those of you who didn't appreciate the former cliffhanger ^_^ And if it isn't, well…. that's tough, cause I'm leaving it on this note haha!

At any rate, I'd really appreciate it if you **reviewed** and gave me your input.

Thanks for reading!!


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